Page 14 of Spice
“You’re mine, Willow,” he growls, his voice barely recognizable. “Mine to fuck, mine to breed. Mine forever.”
His words send me spiraling over the edge again, my body convulsing around him, my magic surging out of control. The room responds in kind, the air crackling with energy, the walls shaking as if in the throes of an earthquake. Ezra’s chanting grows louder, more insistent, his voice a dark melody that weaves through the chaos.
The altar groans, the stone splitting down the middle with a deafening crack. Ezra and I tumble to the floor, his arms cradling me as he cushions me with his body. The room is a storm of magic, the air thick with it, the walls groaning as if they might collapse around us.
We reach for each other at the same time, and within seconds, I’m riding him, taking his thick cock deep inside me. I’m moaning so loudly it’s almost a shout, my voice hoarse and raw, as I come and come, my pussy clamping down on his cock, my release squirting out like a fucking firehose.
“Ezra!” I scream again, my body convulsing, my magic pouring out of me in a wild, uncontrollable torrent. The room is chaos, bottles on shelves shattering, the house shaking, the very air crackling with power. Outside, pumpkins explode, the sound like distant gunshots, the pulp and seeds splattering against the windows like gruesome Halloween confetti.
Ezra roars, his voice a primal, animal sound. His cock swells inside me, his body tensing, and then he comes, his release hot and thick, pulsing into me, filling me until I’m overflowing.
The magic erupts around us, a dome of pure, raw power, the air shimmering with it. Ezra’s cock is still pulsing inside me, his release seemingly endless, my pussy milking him, drawing out every last drop.
We collapse in a tangled heap of limbs, our skin glowing with the aftermath of our magic. The altar is in shards around us, the stone cracked and broken. His chest heaves against mine, his breath ragged, his heart pounding. My own heart is racing, my body slick with sweat and magic and Ezra’s cum as it leaks out of me.
I’m aware of his magic inside me, a warm, pulsing presence, mingling with my own. The bond between us is a living thing, a cord of pure, unadulterated power, tying us together.
“I’m never letting you go, little witch,” Ezra says after a moment. The magic around us quiets. Calms. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”
I turn to him, meeting his eyes. A hot shiver passes through me, like a warm wind ghosting over my skin. “Then don’t.”
He kisses me, and it tastes like forever.
Six
Ezra
Willow’s breathing is ragged beside me. We’re a mess of sweat and cum, the runes and sigils on her skin still glowing softly, glimmering like twilight. I hold her, stroking my hands over her hair, down her back. How have I gone over two-hundred years without this woman in my arms? I can’t fathom not having her. It’s as though she’s always been a part of me, I just didn’t know it.
I glance down and suck in a breath when I see a faint gold rune glowing low on her belly.
I didn’t draw that one on her. It appeared on its own.
Which means…
Hope soars through me, a living, breathing thing that fills my chest, that makes my blood feel effervescent. I trace it gently with my finger, which draws Willow’s attention.
“Is that…” She says softly, eyes wide. Her fingers tremble as she reaches toward the softly glowing rune. “That means life, doesn’t it?” Our fingers tangle together over the gold symbol.
“It does.” My voice is hoarse, my throat thick with emotion. With relief and gratitude and love and hope.
“Does that mean— ” But Willow’s question is cut off when every single book in the room falls to the floor in one simultaneous thud. She squeaks and curls into me, and I wrap my arms around her even tighter. We both sit up after a moment, looking cautiously around the room. Muscles protesting, I rise to my feet and help Willow up.
The ritual room is completely trashed. The altar is in pieces. Glass shards litter the floor, symbols are seared into the walls, and my entire library is now on the floor.
Willow glances over at me, and when our eyes meet, she starts to laugh. “Did we do all this?”
I can’t help but laugh, too. Her laughter is light, tinkling, infectious. “Imagine what would’ve happened without the protective runes.”
“You’d be homeless. Well, castle-less,” she says with a smirk that makes me want to haul her against me and kiss the shit out of her.
So I do. She comes easily, lips parting and welcoming me in as I rub circles over her round ass. She shudders as my tongue strokes against hers, and I’m already hard again. Even if the ritual’s over, even if she’s bred and the curse is broken, I want her again. I think I’ll always want her, no matter what. As we kiss, a breeze stirs the curtains. Willow’s magic surrounds me, lush and sparkling, and I’m once again dumbfounded that she didn’t know her own power.
Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels digging into my back as I lift her up, carrying her towards my bedroom. Our lips are locked, tongues tangling in a hot, desperate dance. Her body is soft and pliant against mine, her curves fitting perfectly into my hands as I grip her ass, supporting her weight as we move through the house.
I kick open the bedroom door, striding towards the massive four-poster bed. I lay her down gently, her hair fanning out around her like a halo of fire. She looks up at me, her eyes glazed with desire, her lips swollen from our kisses. I can see the pulse in her neck, fluttering rapidly, and I want to taste it, feel it against my tongue.
I climb onto the bed, my body covering hers. Our hips grind together as our limbs tangle, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me. Her hands roam over my back, nails digging in as she pulls me closer. Her pussy is hot against my cock, and I’m so fucking hard, already aching to be inside her again.
